The Addiction
by Rebecca Stone
(Los Angeles, CA)
Rocks on the rocks... just one more addiction?
Holy cow! I guess I've never really thought about stones or rocks in quite this way. I'm not particularly the blinded-by-science type, but I do recall that back in junior college, my favorite science-type class was geology.
In fact, one of my cherished memories from that period was of a group of us students going on a rain-soaked, beer-fueled field trip up the Columbia River Gorge, in search of basalt formations and the like.
But, I must say, as fascinating as basalt is, it never made me break out in a sweat the way I do when I'm surrounded by semiprecious and precious stones (is there really a difference?).
I mean, put a few nuggets of some really supreme-looking amethyst in front of me and I can kiss any resolve not to spend another dime at the bead store goodbye.
It all began with my layoff as an editor and writer on a boating magazine. I mean, one day I was focused on the water and then, suddenly all my attention turned to land-born formations.
Seems like the day after my job evaporated I was reborn in the jewelry section at Michael's Craft Store, staring at pretty rocks on a string and something called "Findings." I remember thinking to myself, "Why not? I'm certainly looking to find myself."
I bought a book and some basic supplies, excited for the chance to learn something new.
Since then my craving for stones that I can transform into jewelry has grown into an addiction that could rival drinking and gambling. Heck, it's downright insatiable. I can't recall ever feeling this way about buying shoes or underwear.
I don't think this is unusual among jewelry designers and rock hounds in general.
While drooling over a strand of Moss Agate at Michael's one day, I overheard a girl say, "Look, Mom, we're in your section!" Her mother muttered as she swept by the colored stones and crystals, averting her eyes, "Nope, I'm going cold turkey." It looked like it was all she could do to keep from breaking into a run to outpace her passion run amok.
I empathized. Lately, I've been trying to pick routes that steer clear of my growing list of bead shop stops, just so I can space my expenditures into manageable chunks.
When I do succumb to a visit, I try to limit my purchases to one project at a time. This is tough to do.
New stones (and lately, crystals as well) beckon me like sea sirens lured sailors to their rocky shores - and their ultimate demise.
While my ship has never been in danger (until recently I had an old wooden trawler that often served as my floating art studio, and I happen to know that she is still moored safely in her slip), my pocketbook is often perilously close to running aground.
Los Angeles is full of enticements, bead and stone shopping-wise. And I appear to be on course to discover every single shop and show that appears on my radar screen.
But, while possible financial catastrophe lurks behind every sparkling, colored strand that dangles like a 24-carat carrot from a shop wall or lies twisted on a show table, so does a wealth of lessons.
The more I run my fingers over stones and absorb their beauty, some blatant and some subtle, the more I learn. And I am hungry to learn. Starving, in fact.
So many shops… and for once I have time. And, thanks to sites like Rena's I don't feel quite so alone as I try to gain a foothold in this new territory.
I hope you'll visit my blog, Inclusions, to check in on my progress from time to time as I stumble along on my adventures in jewelry design - and chime in about your own.
Rebecca Stone
Inclusions blog
Rebecca Stone Designs on etsy